


a resting place for the light

by norikae



Series: kihyun/minhyuk: home in so many places (explicit oneshots) [2]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Couch Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, sorry - Freeform, that's... it that's the plot., the tldr is this, two people in a committed loving relationship fuck after some viddy games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 13:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norikae/pseuds/norikae
Summary: Kihyun blooms under the touch, cheeks blushing faintly, lips parting. He twists to give the hand better access; rubs against Minhyuk’s crotch, wanting, steadying himself with small hands against Minhyuk’s waist.“Maybe,” he croons, voice scratchy. He pushes his chest forward, rubbing against Minhyuk’s thumb of his own accord, “If only you could show me.”





	a resting place for the light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghoulgy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulgy/gifts).



> sawyer. this is for you. you asshole. i hope you enjoy it because i've demolished entire cities with my head writing this.
> 
> not proofread because my shame cortex is massive sorry if anything reads funny that is just how it is on this fuck of a world

Summer is muggy, thirty four degree weather days in the heart of Seoul with the humidity cranked up so high breathing feels like swimming, pushing through water and weight and time. Kihyun marvels at the way every time they leave the house he is drenched in sweat in fifteen seconds flat, the moisture clinging stubbornly to his skin and turning him unpleasantly sticky until he gets home.

It explains why he and Minhyuk are currently hiding indoors on their ninth round of Mario Kart, Minhyuk sprawled lengthwise on the couch while Kihyun sits neatly, focused on the game. So far they’re even, four for four: genuinely slightly dizzy from all the virtual driving, Kihyun had called for this last match to be the tie breaker. So it’s a high-stakes match, really; he focuses so hard his eyes cross a little bit, determined to win.

It happens in an instant. Minhyuk swerves out, and back in, losing some distance on Kihyun - who tosses a blue shell, taking him out at the last moment and allowing Kihyun to cruise to an easy victory.

“ _What_ ,” Minhyuk gasps, stricken in disbelief. “How did that happen, I want a rematch.”

Kihyun coos lovingly, having set aside the controller so he can stretch in victory. “Now that sounds like what a loser who can’t accept his place would say.”

Letting out an indignant gasp, Minhyuk extends his leg suddenly, catching Kihyun in the thigh with his foot. “You take that back, you tiny thing,” he cries. “You only won by a stroke of luck! We all know I’m the better player!”

Seizing Minhyuk’s foot and pulling, Kihyun clambers onto the sofa. Threatens, jokingly, “Do you wanna say that again?”

Kihyun is in between his legs, hand gripping one calf. Minhyuk pushes himself off the couch and into an upright position. Sitting up with his knees bent he brings his head to knock lightly against Kihyun’s crouching form, and grins, challenging, “I _said_ , we all know I’m the better player.”

Forehead to forehead, Kihyun retracts a hair’s width before he brings their heads back together, knocking their skulls together with a loud _clack_. “That’s not true,” he breathes lazily. His eyelids flicker down, lashes long against his cheek, and then back up slowly when he continues, eyes at half mast, “The science is clear: I won.”

Minhyuk doesn’t bother rebutting him this time. His hand is on Kihyun’s neck, now, as he smiles into the kiss, the hints of a laugh catching in his throat. The other wraps around his waist, pulling him in as Kihyun fits between his legs, his own hands falling onto Minhyuk’s hips, fluttering under his shirt, warming up his artificially cooled skin.

Kissing Kihyun feels right, somehow; lazily Minhyuk licks into his mouth and lets him press back, tongue to tongue, teeth scraping lip. He makes these sounds - small exhales, warm in the spaces where they pull apart and back together - and Minhyuk eats each of them, wants them to be louder, to consume him whole.

“You’re so hot,” he murmurs against the corner of Kihyun’s mouth, pulling away only so he can kiss down the side of his jaw instead, find his favourite spot on his neck where the muscle dips into a hollow. Minhyuk leaves a hot, wet trail of kisses on his way, then settles, suckling at the skin leisurely, his other hand dipping under Kihyun’s shirt, smoothing over his ribs and counting each one of them in turn.

Kihyun’s reply is belated, barely making its way out between his soft exhales, his lids that can’t seem to stay open. “The temperature’s at like, nineteen degrees,” he breathes, shifting so he’s straddling Minhyuk’s lap, one leg folded on the couch and the other with his foot braced against the floor. The swell in his loose shorts shows when he pitches his hips forwards enough to bring them to Minhyuk’s, friction eliciting sighs from them both. “Any colder and we’ll freeze, heatwave or none.”

“I meant _sexy_.” Minhyuk nips punishingly at the spot on his neck. The hand under Kihyun’s shirt travels higher, thumbing at a nipple. “You know what I meant.”

Kihyun blooms under the touch, cheeks blushing faintly, lips parting. He twists to give the hand better access; rubs against Minhyuk’s crotch, wanting, steadying himself with small hands against Minhyuk’s waist. “Maybe,” he croons, voice scratchy. He pushes his chest forward, rubbing against Minhyuk’s thumb of his own accord, “If only you could show me.”

Minhyuk groans. “If you wanna, baby,” he says, and reaches for the hem of Kihyun’s t-shirt, helping him out of it. He runs his hands over and over the revealed skin, mapping what is already familiar. Brings his head down, hoisting Kihyun a little higher with the help of his legs, licking gently at the bud until it stiffens under his attention.

“Mm,” Kihyun hums, idly, rocking his hips and arching his back, pushing his chest into Minhyuk’s mouth. “Wanna fuck me here?” He asks, languid tone belied by the way his hands are fisting in Minhyuk’s hair, the pressure building where they touch.

Minhyuk groans again, louder, the sound a buzz that goes straight to Kihyun’s dick. He cants his hips against Kihyun’s, pulling away to kiss him hotly, hands still ceaseless on his chest. “God, yes,” he mumbles, mouthing all over his neck again, watching Kihyun squirm, cataloguing each of his soft noises, the possessive grip he has on Minhyuk’s waist. The way he tugs them closer on the narrow couch, impossibly so, like they could somehow become closer still.

Their flat is small. In the dinky living room of their tiny flat all they have is a couch, a coffee table, and a television. Through the late afternoon light filtering in through the windows Kihyun is beautiful, even more so with his palely sunlit skin, the reddening marks on his neck.

His swollen lips are red from the kissing; tender, Minhyuk brushes his cheek with the back of his hand. Kihyun leans into the touch, lids fluttering with a sigh. Quietly, Minhyuk brushes his thumb over the dry skin of his lower lip.

Then he untangles momentarily with a tender kiss to the forehead, tumbling inelegantly towards the coffee table. Pulling out the third drawer, he reaches in and comes back with a tube of lube, shucking his shorts and underwear as he goes. He nudges Kihyun with his knee to let him back into their former position, tugging his shorts off before settling back down.

“In the _coffee table_?” Kihyun remarks, aghast. He makes himself comfortable on Minhyuk’s lap, pressing their now freed cocks together. His eyes fall shut, his head into the crook of Minhyuk’s shoulder, and his breath is hot against his neck when he asks, again, shifting, “What if we had _guests_?”

“Mm,” Minhyuk hums in thought, uncapping the bottle and pouring out its contents onto his hands to warm it up. Cheekily, he nips at the shell of Kihyun’s ear and whispers, “They’ll be glad to know just how much of this apartment we’ve desecrated, then.”

His hands ghost over Kihyun’s ass. Kihyun wriggles a little bit. “I always knew you were an exhibitioni – _oh,_ ” he breathes, when a finger traces around his perineum, rubbing and dipping in and out before Minhyuk pushes the tip of it in. His hands claw at Minhyuk’s shoulders; he shifts restlessly on his lap. “Minhyuk,” he slurs. “Don’t tease.”

He receives a disapproving cluck in reply. “Patience,” Minhyuk scolds, slowly working the lone finger in some more. The other hand brushes against Kihyun’s cock, then takes hold in a firm grip, providing him some relief. Where they touch there is a fire, and Kihyun is a match, lit ablaze.

“Hurry the fuck _up_ ,” Kihyun bites. Minhyuk snickers a little bit into his mouth when he impatiently surges forward to kiss him, pulling his finger out and prodding at Kihyun’s entrance with two instead.

“I said patience,” he murmurs, full of humour; catching Kihyun’s gaze with his own, pressing a quick kiss to his nose. Minhyuk slowly scissors his fingers and works him open, distracting him with another wet, open-mouthed kiss, a thumb pressing into the head of his cock. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Patience is why you _lost_ ,” Kihyun complains, but it’s without any effort, his hands locked around the back of Minhyuk’s neck, head thrown back while his hips work in counterpoint to his fingers. “Your fingers. Fuck. Minhyuk, you’re so _slow_.”

“And you are just so impatient,” Minhyuk grins. Now when he pushes in a third finger, the give is easy, and Kihyun rocks _down,_ moaning properly. Minhyuk huffs a laugh of simultaneous amusement and arousal. Says, “Here I was worried about underpreparation.”

Testily, Kihyun flicks one eye open. His hands trace patterns in the muscle of Minhyuk’s neck when he deadpans, “Have you forgotten how often we fuck, Minhyuk.” Inside him Minhyuk knows he’s found his prostate when Kihyun arches suddenly, grip tightening as he bends into him. “I’m ready, _fuck_ , just get on with it.”

Minhyuk pulls his fingers out, shifting them and laying Kihyun back down on the couch, shifting a cushion under his back. Reflexively Kihyun spreads his legs, reaching out with his arms for Minhyuk when he crawls in between his thighs. “Comfortable?” he asks, bracketing Kihyun on either side with his hands. The response he gets is a hand cradling his cheek, Kihyun’s gaze momentarily soft, a smile playing at the edge of his features. He grinds down against where Minhyuk’s cock lies against his own in lieu of a proper answer.

Splayed against the couch and wanting, Kihyun is a sight. His chest heaves with each breath, dusky nipples pert, alert cock stirring Minhyuk’s own. His hair is completely askew when he pats to his side until he finds the lube, finding it and pouring out a generous amount to rub between his palms.

Then he’s wrapping a sure hand around Minhyuk, who sighs into his touch as he pumps him slowly, spreading the fluid onto his cock. “Good. You’re so cute, by the way,” Minhyuk mumbles, bucking into the touch. “Cute and pretty and sexy and _fuck_.”

“And better than you at video games?” Kihyun asks, with one last slow tug, leaving Minhyuk bereft. He is smug when Minhyuk opens his eyes, ready to complain. He is less so when Minhyuk steadies him with a large hand on the jut of his hip and aligns himself, slowly pushing into him.

White hot pleasure curls deep in his abdomen, making him giddy with the sensation. “ _Ah_ ,” Kihyun moans, fingers scrabbling in the fabric of the couch, toes curling. Minhyuk slowly pulls out, then all the way back in, bottoming out. “You – yeah, just – oh,” he’s babbling, “Oh.”

Focusing on steadying his breathing, Minhyuk agrees silently. Kihyun is tight around him, an intoxicating, wet heat. Minhyuk watches his face, the rise and fall of his chest, eyes catching on his pretty, parted lips as he picks up the pace, setting a rhythm, the slaps of skin on skin intensifying with the force of his thrusts.

Soon Kihyun is moaning brokenly, loud, unabashed sounds cracking with each carefully timed hit. His eyes are screwed shut in pleasure, the edges of his sounds close to sobs.

“Ki. You’re so loud, baby,” Minhyuk breathes, relishing the full-body shudder it brings on. “I love that.” He lowers himself on his arms, so they’re nearly chest to chest, and hits a different angle, then, tip of his cock dragging against Kihyun’s prostate. Kihyun’s eyes fly open at that, his mouth in a silent o.

Taking the cue, Minhyuk focuses on hitting the spot again and again, hand reaching down to pump Kihyun’s cock in time with his thrusts. He can tell he’s close from the rhythm of his breathing, his occasional whines; Minhyuk digs his thumb into the head of Kihyun’s cock and _bucks_ , and then Kihyun is coming, his whole body growing taut for a moment as he rides it out.

His own breathing growing unsteady, Minhyuk steadies himself with a hand on Kihyun’s stomach and thrusts a few more times, finally able to sink unrestrained into Kihyun’s warmth before he follows him over the edge, shuddering with the release.

Collapsing onto Kihyun, Minhyuk lies there for a moment, eyes dropping shut with post-coital fatigue. Kihyun brings a hand to trace along his spine for a few moments in silence before he mumbles, “Okay. Get off me. And get out.”

Groaning and forcing his eyelids open, Minhyuk pulls out, grimacing at the sensation of quickly cooling come tacking onto his skin. “God. I love you, Ki, please don’t ever forget that.” He presses a kiss to his temple, sinking his nose into Kihyun’s hair for a moment before he rolls off, stripping off the t-shirt that had stayed on and wiping himself off haphazardly.

On the couch, Kihyun has pulled himself into a seated position, head tilted, mouth quirked in a smile. “I love you too, dumbass. Now carry me to the bathroom, I’m tired.” He holds his arms out like before, lazy, content.

Minhyuk rolls his eyes, but bends to scoop him up, managing it with some effort. Valiantly he bridal carries his boyfriend towards their bedroom and the attached bathroom, complaining halfheartedly all the way.

“It’s your punishment,” Kihyun quips, words belying the way he is laying his head adoringly on Minhyuk’s chest. “For losing. At Mario Kart.”

Minhyuk drops him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ........................................ (has nothing to say for myself)
> 
>  
> 
> [twt](http://twitter.com/frogbabey)


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